Let the Curtain Draw Closed
by xYellowCrayon-Chan
Summary: AU. AkuRoku. Roxas' life fell apart and when he sees the end coming, he takes that one step... And lets the curtain draw closed. Oneshot.


**Summary:** AU. AkuRoku. Roxas' life fell apart and when he sees the end coming, he takes that one step... And lets the curtain draw closed. Oneshot.

**Warnings:** Possible spelling errors. Possible tear shed for the readers. Shounen-ai.

**Disclaimers:** I do not own Kingdom Hearts, but that doesn't mean I don't want to.

**A/N:** I spent... an hour writing this? Around there. Maybe two. I have no idea, but. I cried while writing this. Not sure that's saying much, but I did. D: It's so sad. I can't believe I did that all, and to _Roxas_. GOD. I maimed myself with this drama and shiiiiiiiiitt. I should have been doing something more productive. But. Whatever. I love this story so much. I really do. I was listening to music and taking a shower when I thought, "Let the curtain draw closed because the performance is over. There's no need to pretend anymore, so why do you still?" Honestly, I was interpreting the music playing and wondered about how to best put it. Annnddd... I came up with this. :'D Enjoyyy.  
Btw, if you have any questions at the end, ask them. I'll explain.

* * *

The wind shifted blond bangs, twisting them, manipulating them into and out of blue eyes. It blew and brushed against numb, pale flesh almost to the point of caressing. It toyed with the loose black jacket, rustled the baggy beige pants, and weaved through limp, nimble fingers. It stayed for only a few moments before it was gone, quick and silent in its escape from the dull, lifeless air surrounding the stoic seventeen year-old male.

Axel would be standing on stage right about now. He would be delivering his intense, well-rehearsed lines to the captured audience, stalking across the wood toward another character waiting to retaliate with his own words and exaggerated actions. And they would banter back and forth, the awestruck and mute crowd watching with rapt, undivided attention. Other characters on stage would survey the scene, mouths sewn shut in either irritation or curiosity until they would rip open in surprise when one of their pact declared that the two bickering males were being ridiculous. She would claim that neither of them should fight someone else's fight, and if they did, they shouldn't decide to rip apart the opposing threat with such indecency. The two men would stare at her, gapping in disbelief because _since when did a woman know anything?_ But with one glance at the other, they would stalk off in opposite directions and the velvet curtains would draw closed. Act 1 would be over. Act 2 would start after a fifteen minute interval, during which time the actors and actresses would change costume back stage while the crew changed the scene.

The blond sighed and drug his eyes over the twinkling lights of the town. He watched with a vague awareness as lights in certain windows turned on while ones next door turned off, communicating different appeals to the early hours of the night; and he would watch the cars navigate through the empty streets of the town while he stood so far off, the houses looked like that of a model, a small doll-made town that little girls dreaming of impossible dreams would play with and the cars looked tiny enough to be ants wandering back toward their individual colonies. He didn't care whether or not someone had lost their job and was dreading the event of telling their respective lover while they drove through the near-carless street. He didn't care whether or not someone was meeting an ex/under-the-radar lover, or if someone was simply driving to _drive_ because they had nothing better to do with their life.

No, he didn't care about any of them. He only cared about the chill that came with the secluded ledge on which he stood. He only cared about the fleeting wind that played with his hair and clothes. He only cared about _not_ caring about others. Because how were you supposed to care about another when you didn't give a damn about yourself? How were you supposed to care when you were about to feel the wind whipping through your hair, tugging at your clothes, pushing up against your hands and body as you neared the rope drawing the velvet curtain across your eyes?

The second act would be starting, the murmuring in the restless, eager crowd reducing to nothing but a silent whisper here and there. The scene would be revealed, a lone figure striding purposefully across wood toward a sitting maiden occupying her delicate hands with some household project. The content female would not be startled when a deep voice demanded why she had spoken out; and she would calmly say that someone needed to, and if no man was going to take the reins, why not she? This would not sit well with the male and he would spin her in her chair, draw closer to her face, and hiss at her guarded expression. Because how _dare_ a woman take over a man's job and raise her voice at one. It was not right, it was a sin against all holy, and he would connect his palm with her face, extracting a stunned gasp from her between her lips. She would sit in silence before rudely pushing him away from her, indignantly rising to her feet and whispering her words of rage. Then she would be gone, disappearing behind scenes, leaving a guilty man in her wake.

A year ago, his life started to crumble around him. It started with his cousin going missing, kidnapped by some psychotic stalker who believed that the burnet was a hero in some world that he had to take out. A month later, the burnet walked into a police station, dirt in his hair and dried blood on his clothes and hands. The officers in the lobby slowed to a standstill, staring at the ragged teen looking back with cloudy blue eyes and dirt, grime, and bodily fluids caked on his torn clothes. The burnet said his name, the officers' eyes widening in disbelief, and soon the cloudy blue eyes cleared into pain and fear and regret as he whispered that he didn't mean to do it, he had to save his own life and couldn't stop the knife once it started. And tears rolled down his dirty, gaunt face as he repeated his apologies over and over as the officers rushed to his side. Months went by and Sora finally managed to sleep peacefully, finally managed to smile and laugh, but he was never the same.

Four months ago, Roxas stood at the freshly turned earth covering the body of his mother, and his eyes took in the site of his father resting in the ground right beside her. Tears rolled down his cheeks as family members walked away to give him space to grieve, but two people stayed behind. One bearing blazing red hair walked forward, hesitantly extended a pale hand before retracting it slowly, not wanting to upset the blond further. But Roxas sniffed slightly before launching himself at the other boy, wrapping his small arms around the other's chest tightly. The redhead wrapped his arms protectively around the smaller male, tightening his grip when his best friend started to wail in sadness. The female watching sighed, tears falling down her own face in sorrow and in realization that the two embracing males would soon become lovers and she would be shoved to the side. But she sucked up her pain and just watched, knowing she could never have that which she desired but she would fight tooth and nail for it.

Three months ago, Roxas started dating Axel, and Xion started making herself scarce. The three amigos were no longer amigos, but Roxas would still find ways to spend time with his best friend. As the month drew on, the blond started to notice a subtle change in Xion. She was always off on her own, always avoiding the two boys dating, and always saying the most peculiar things when she did speak. She always talked about how it didn't make sense anymore and how she was overjoyed for her two friends, wanting nothing but the best for them as she ran in the opposite direction. She was always jumpy, always hiding what she was writing or doing, never letting Roxas inside of her house anymore. It didn't make any sense to the blond, but as the month drew to a close, everything clicked.

Two months ago, Roxas killed his best friend. She had finally invited him over and when he got there, he took immediate notice at the absence of her parents. She shrugged it off, saying they were on their third honeymoon, and Roxas believed her. The whole night, she acted like her old self, joking and teasing the blond about his relationship status. It was going great. Then Roxas went to the bathroom and while walking back to the kitchen to where Xion was making them something to eat, he noticed a smell coming from her parents' room. His curiosity got the best of him and upon opening the door, he covered his mouth in horror and an attempt to keep down his late lunch. Stumbling back, he rushed to the hall closet, pulling out the shoebox the now dead father of Xion had showed him once. It held a loaded pistol only to be used in the event of an emergency. He snatched it up, gasping in sheer terror as he gripped the handle of the gun, walking down the stairs and toward the kitchen in which Xion resided. He moved halfway into the doorway, concealing the other half holding the gun. He questioned Xion about where her parents were, and when she responded with the same story as before, he revealed the gun as he whispered his finding. She froze before turning slowly, her eyes hard as ice as she took in the site of her ex-friend. She whispered back about why she did it and how if she couldn't have Roxas, no one could. She grabbed the knife she had been cutting with and launched herself at the blond. Four shots later and Xion was in a pool of her own blood, the knife lying at her side.

One month ago, Roxas and Axel had their first fight. It ended with the latter breaking off the relationship, saying that he didn't know the quiet, secluded blond and there was no way that he could have a relationship with someone who didn't even care about himself anymore. So it ended; and Roxas started isolating himself more, receding further and further into depression. He started cutting, deeper and deeper each time when he started to grow immune to the small, shallow cuts.

One week ago, Axel finally spoke to him again, saying that he knew what the blond had been doing. He took Roxas to a psychologist and the blond was diagnosed with depression. He had another meeting tomorrow at six o'clock in the evening and Axel was supposed to accompany him. They were going to talk about past problems that led to the depression and the possibility that the blond had thought about suicide. Too bad Axel had noticed what the blond was doing far too late, because he would be late to his appointment tomorrow. In fact…

The second act would be ending right about now. The curtains would be drawing closed, the audience rising to applaud the performance, and then the curtains would open once more for curtain call. The whole cast and crew would be announced and the crowd would go wild with cheers and claps; and soon most would flow up to and on to the stage to talk to the actors and actresses, and sometimes even a crew member. There would only be smiles and laughs as people got pictures from and autographs with their favorite characters. Axel would be among the people getting pictures taken and signing autographs. The performance would officially be marked as over and the set soon demolished.

Roxas took a deep breath as he once more looked at the town that looked like a toy. He cherished the gentle feel of the wind as it played with his hair one final time. He looked at his phone, reading over the message that was waiting to be sent to the love of his life one last time before with one small push, it was sent. He sighed and tucked the device in his pocket, fingers lingering around the technology before retreating. He had to go through with it soon. After all, Axel always had his phone on him, and he would have already received the message. He would be on his way, hunting for the blond, knowing deep down that he would probably be too late. But that wouldn't stop him from speeding down the roads in his car, running every red light that tried to separate him from saving the other. He wouldn't stop until he got to the clock tower, he wouldn't stop to turn off his car as he barged into the train station, sprinting for the stairs and taking two, three at a time. He wouldn't stop for a second to avoid running into the door and throwing it open, crying out the blond's name. He wouldn't stop as he ran to the front of the tower, eyes searching every air molecule that floated. He wouldn't stop as he ran to the side of the tower, looking over the edge and yelling out the name of the falling male.

Roxas closed his eyes, feeling tears prickling them as the phone in his pocket vibrated insistently. He took a deep breath and held it for a minute before releasing it and looking out into the horizon. After months of pain, he finally felt… relief, at peace with himself and his life. He finally felt… ready to go through with it. So looking at the stars shining down on him, he took that one step…

And let the curtain draw closed.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Months passed since Roxas jumped…

Axel stood over a grave covered with fresh flowers lying next to the grave of the parents. He sighed and felt tears run down his face, closing his eyes and turning his face toward the heavens. He stood in silence, letting the tears freely fall as he thought of the person most important to him. And he cried more at the thought of losing said person. He looked at the grave again before reaching out to the person next to him, weaving his fingers through the other set.

"I'm glad that it isn't you buried…" He murmured and focused his bleary green eyes on the one next to him.

"Yeah, I'm glad, too," The other murmured before turning watery blue eyes to green. "Thanks for saving me, Axel."

Axel smiled before pulling the other toward him, wrapping his lanky arms around the smaller frame and burying his nose in golden spikes.

"I could never lose you, Roxas."

They looked back at the grave of their once best friend before turning away, hand in hand. They didn't look back once as they took that one step…

And let the curtain draw closed.


End file.
